Editor's Remarks

     Here's what I know to be true; it always hurts. There's no one way to move through what breaks and seems to keep on breaking inside of us. I say seems to because I've come to find that it can often feel like one is more warped than they are. Time may not heal every wound but it does heal some. Sifting through old bruises and scars, learning the language of each, we do sacred, scary work with what went wrong. 

     With a new year comes a pressure to somehow be better than the all the years that came before, but the truth is, in some ways, we always are. Our inner country is one of flux and travel. Sometimes here, other times over there. Any location can go dark at any moment. What about the light? That too comes and goes. We aren't good or bad, we're mostly, each of us, trying to fit the pieces together all at once, frustrated that the pattern keeps on changing.

     I am not a particularly happy person, but I am content. Not satisfied or satiated, a state of the beyond, belly full, cup overfloweth. If anything, we never seem to have everything that we need for the work there is to do. It is life long, all the fitting and weaving, the tearing and mending. Sometimes we have to build a room for all that we do not know. Blank states, numb, wailing, longing. 

     Better partnering with out capacities is a nascent state, evolutionary taste buds still forming, feeling their way along the soul's trenches. Here's what I also know to be true; we never arrive, we keep walking. We walk standing still, curled into the fetal position, rocking in corners, laid out on the floor, down for the count, we keep counting, we keep climbing. 

     Give yourself permission to sit with all of your parts. The beautiful, the ugly, the unknown. The deepest part of trauma's work is arriving without knowing the destination. The future. More will be revealed. It is sacred, scary work. It is a new year. And we're still here. We're still here.


James Diaz
Editor - AHC